Chapter Text
The first time, they are young, dumb, and it's Ivy's pollen that does it.
It’s one of the early Superman and Batman team-ups. The title World's Finest is still awkward and clunky on their tongues. They know each other's identities, but it's barely even a partnership at this point. Even Clark can barely call them friends.
So when things go wrong with Poison Ivy, it's a sticky mess both of them want to forget.
Together, the two of them apprehend the villain, dodge her hostile plants and hand her over to the police commissioner. It’s a fairly typical fight and Gotham’s reporters crowd around, asking the friendlier visiting vigilante for his statement.
"I got involved because the labs Ivy was originally working out of were located in Metropolis. This incident involved the safety of both our cities."
"So that means we won't be seeing the World's Finest in Gotham anymore?" Someone asks.
Clark expects Batman to jump in on that question, but the man remains silent beside him, fists clenched, breathing deeply.
"Batman is perfectly capable of guarding Gotham on his own. As for the World's Finest, well, let's see what the future holds."
Batman's heartbeat is dangerously fast. Clark goes to look at him in concern, but something grabs the back of his cape.
"Get us out of here." Batman growls, and while Bruce tends to growl his words more often than not, this is so much deeper below his normal register that a shiver runs down Clark's spine.
Nodding farewell to the bystanders, Clark allows Batman to get a firm grip on his shoulder and takes off into the smoggy Gotham sky. Bruce's breath is scaldingly hot on his ear, his heart pounding like a ticking time bomb. As soon as they are out of earshot, Clark turns to his partner.
"Batman. What's wrong? Your vitals are all over the place."
His dark passenger is silent for a moment, before gritting out. "Land. I need- Land now."
Concerned, Clark lands on the firescape of a derelict building. Batman clutches at him for a moment, gloved hands digging fiercely into the collar of his suit, before ripping himself away to grasp at the railing.
"Batman. Bruce." Clark reaches out a hand, but Bruce flinches away. "Bruce. You need to tell me what's wrong."
"I can't hold it." Bruce is shaking so badly the whole rusted metal structure is shaking with him. "Fly away, fly away now, I can't hold it, Clark, leave. Leave now-"
Clark frowns. “I’m not leaving you alone if you’re in trouble. I thought you knew me better than that. I’d never leave someone who needed my help.”
Batman barks a laugh. “You can’t give me the help I need. You need to get away from me now.”
“No. I want to help. Bruce.” Clark clasps one wrist, the pulse beating so furiously he can feel it through the gauntlet. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”
Blank white lenses meet his eyes and he looks into them steadily. Bruce takes a deep shaky breath, and something snaps.
Clark is violently shoved through the glass window and into the derelict building. Their sudden entrance startles a gaggle of squatters, who run shrieking for the stairs. Clark lands heavy on his back, Batman on top of him. Even with the mask, Clark can see his face twisted up in agony.
“I need, I can’t-” Gloved hands scrabble at Clark’s suit, then at the utility belt. A sharp green light bursts from it, and Clark feels the strength sap from him and give rise to a thousand new sensations. The chill pours in from the dilapidated roof, the sharpness of glass cuts his skin, the maddening itchiness of a million little pollen particles seep into his no longer invulnerable pores.
“I can’t do this. I won’t do this.” Bruce scrabbles for the piece of kryptonite, forcing his lust numbed fingers to open the lead lined pouch. Clark stops him.
“Your heart is going to overload before you synthesize an antidote. You’ll die.” Bruce’s face seems to indicate he would prefer death, but Clark continues. “I said whatever you need. I meant it. Besides,” Clark forced a shaky laugh, feeling his own blood rush, his own cock ache and thicken. “I might need some help myself.”
Without x-ray vision, Clark could never say what Bruce’s face looked like in that moment. But after good long moment, he let the kryptonite fall to the floor among the shards of the window and ground his hips into Clark’s with a groan of relief. Clark’s pants were harshly rucked down, the cold air on his burning cock making him yelp. Bruce wrestled with his belt, pulling it just low enough that he could take both of them in hand and jack them roughly enough to hurt.
Clark panted for breath, writhed and cried out as the glass beneath him tore his back At a harsh drag over his tender slit, he knocked his head back against the concrete floor. It throbbed with pain even as his skin tightened and burned with lust that spread like a rash. Bruce’s weight pushed the points of his bones painfully into the ground, his glove chafed at the delicate skin of their cocks. But in that moment, with the pulsing of Bruce’s length against his own, Clark had never felt so vividly alive,so completely human.
Hand speeding up where it was wedged between them, Batman buried his other in Clark's hair, the pull of it stretching tender nerves to the breaking point. Chin digging into Clark’s shoulder, Bruce gave a strangled grunt and came. Clark choked on his own breath and followed after.
oOo
It was a mess. A mess that went beyond sticky uniforms and sex hair. Bruce snapped to his senses right after coming. He jerked back, yanked up his pants and left Clark panting on the dirty floor. Clark stumbled to his feet soon after, a cooling mess in his underpants and glass shards stuck in his back. The two had retreated to a discreet safe house nearby and took silent separate showers, glittering pollen shimmering prettily on its way down the drain. Clark had clambered out of the shower to have Bruce shove a spare pair of clothes into his arms. “Word gets out to anyone-”
“Of course.” Clark replies. He can still feel the residual burn of the pollen, the cold ache kryptonite left in its wake. The way Bruce shuts the door and drives away engine roaring somehow hurts more than all that.
Clark returns to work the next day. Lois is still there, same as always, asking if a Smallville boy had somehow managed to snag a hot date over the weekend.
“If you don’t stop acting like such a hick, Clark, you’ll never get a city girl. Have some class, dress up a little. Try not to come in the first ten seconds.”
Normally, Clark would blush at such a remark, but now he feels so drained of blood that nothing rises to his face.
There is no word from across the bay. Gotham is more silent than it ever was. When Riddler tries some mischief in Metropolis, Superman defeats him on his own. The World’s Finest is falling apart before it even has a chance to fly. The thought hurts much more than Clark expected it would.
After two weeks of nothing, a blizzard takes Gotham. While Batman is preoccupied fighting Mr. Freeze, Superman flies about the city, getting its many homeless to shelter and guilting members of the elite into sharing their sprawling homes with the needy. After all is over, Clark makes his way to Wayne Manor, the normally empty house bustling with people waiting out the storm.
“Mister Kent.” Alfred somehow spots Clark among the throng of people. “I didn’t think to expect you here.” One look into the old man’s eyes and Clark knows he knows.
“I am wherever people need me the most.” Clark answers, slipping off his coat to hand to a shivering woman.
“Are you sure you are not neglecting your own needs, however?”
“I’m fine.” Clark answers, and he knows they are not talking about the coat. “I’m glad to do what’s needed.”
“A noble way of living, good sir. Master Bruce may be in need of your reassurance, however. This whole situation has been rather hard on him.”
“Is he downstairs?”
“In his usual spot.” Alfred replied, handing out more blankets to his unexpected guests. “Bring him something hot to drink. Lord knows he needs it.”
A mug of cocoa in hand, Clark makes his way down to the cave. Batman is sitting at the computer, typing, still coated in ice from the battle. Clark feels a wry smile twist his mouth. Of course Bruce would log his mission report before even changing out of his clothes. It is a testament to how tired Bruce is that it takes as long as it does for him to realize the footsteps are not Alfred’s. He jerks away.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“I go where I’m needed.”
Bruce flinches at the choice of words. His voice is low. “Are you here to take me down?”
“Take you down?” Clark asks.
“Take away the suit. Reveal me to the public. Go to the police, take me to court. Or punish me yourself.”
“I came.” Clark said, setting the mug down on the console. “To bring you cocoa. And help your city. And hopefully, talk, since you’ve practically disappeared these past few days.”
“I raped you. What else is there to say?”
“You were under the influence of a drug that was killing you and repeatedly told me to back off. If anyone took advantage, it was me.” Clark settled down in the chair with a sigh. “Look, what we did… It was out of our control. And in hindsight, we could come up with a million ways we could have responded better to the situation. But it’s done now. I’m not going to let it destroy what we’ve built. Unless-”
Clark spared a cautious glance at Bruce. “Unless you don’t want to work with me due to this. Which I perfectly understand and accept. But I think, I hope, that the World’s Finest can continue and be a true force for good in this world. And-” Clark continued. “I enjoy working with you. You are the only friend I have who can understand me.”
With snow, ice, and a lead mask obscuring his features, Bruce’s face is indistinguishable, but he seems almost shocked. “You still want to work together.”
“Yes.”
“You want to be...friends.”
“Yes. I do.”
Bruce looks at Clark's earnest face, then clears his throat. “We never speak of this again.”
Clark remembers the rough jerking of Bruce’s glove, his hot breath in his ear, the rush of his cum. The exhilarating rush of being human and alive, nothing more than a man with a man on top of him. He swallows the memories down.
“Fresh start." He says cheerfully. "It never happened.”
And it will never happen again.